These are the thoughts and observations of me — a woman of a certain age. (Oh, my, God, I'm 65!) I'm single. I'm successful enough (independent, self supporting). I live just outside Chicago, the best city in the world. I'm an aunt and a friend. I feel that voices like mine are rather underrepresented online or in print. So here I am. If my musings resonate with you, please visit my blog again sometime.
Monday, October 21, 2013
Space is scary
The movie Gravity is vast, beautifully made and ingeniously plotted. And I hated it.
I don't like space. I don't like infinity. I don't like silence and extreme temperatures and airlessness. I don't like the idea of hurtling weightlessly and uncontrollably.
It's as though director Alfonso Cuaron crawled inside my head, found all the things I find completely unacceptable and put them on screen.
I suppose all the things I hate about space are also true of the sea. But I do not fear water. I did nearly drown once but didn't realize it until afterward because the undertow that had completely taken control of me felt so confident and trustworthy. I understand intellectually that it might have taken me way, way out to sea and not returned me to shore (which it did with a painful thud) for days, but I just somehow knew when it was happening that the sea wouldn't do that to me and I'd be fine.
I don't like space. Space is bad. 90 minutes of Gravity scared me the way the shower scene scared audiences in Psycho.